Earthquake in Gotham
by ares13
Summary: An Earthquake in Gotham leaves the Dark Knight in a perilous position. Better than it sounds hopefully :D


**A/N: All mistakes are my own, I apologise in advance. Hopefully people like it and if you do would really appreciate you to Review especially for positive criticism :D **

**Disclaimer: Characters are not mine as much as I want them to be lol**

A loud chesty cough sounded throughout the large cavern, causing bats to shriek in surprise and shuffle around on the already crowded ceiling. The source of the cough, sat slumped at the Batcomputer. Batman, also known as Bruce Wayne wiped a heavy gloved hand across his unmasked, sweating forehead. Unfocused eyes were unable to take in any of the information that was flitting across the screen.

"Master Bruce?" A polite British voice called out from behind him.

"Yes Alfred?" He slurred reply a few seconds later.

"Master Bruce, are you alright?" The elderly butler placed a warm hand on Bruce's forehead. "Oh Master Bruce your burning up. I think it's time you go to bed."

"Can't… have tofinishmyreportfortheleague…" Bruce's words began running together.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that sir!" Alfred helped his unwilling master to his feet.

Bruce made no move of protest, showing Alfred just how ill he was. They made their way slowly across the Batcave towards the staircase leading up to the manor above, Bruce he was leaning heavily onto his father-figure, something he rarely did because of his stubborn nature, showing Alfred just how bad off he really was. It was slow going up the stairs as Bruce grew more nauseous and dizzy so they had to stop occasionally to keep him from falling and causing more damage to himself. Everything was going ok, until they got to the top of the staircase. Just as Alfred pulled a lever revealing the Wayne Manor, things began to tremor. The violent shaking took to a terrifying level quickly as things began to crash and fall off of shelves and tables.

Even in his feverish condition Bruce could feel the stairs below him start to buckle. Knowing that Alfred, would never survive such a fall, Bruce made a split second decision and pushed his faithful butler into the shaking manor just as the staircase collapsed. Falling along with it he heard his faithful companion cry out his name in distress. However to Bruce the knowledge that Alfred was safe made him smile, not that'd he ever admit to it, in contentment before a dislodged chunk of staircase wacked him in the head and knocking him into oblivion.

Bruce awoke dizzy and disorientated, his head pounding and the first thing he did was yell as the agony in his right shoulder ferociously overcame his normal pain threshold causing him to clutch at it. He took deep breathes attempting to force the pain back so he could figure out where he was and why he was in such pain. It took him a few minutes but eventually he was able to recount the earthquake and pushing Alfred out the way. Peering around his pitch black confinement, attempting to get his eyes to adjust he sighed in frustration at the lack of light. Sure he was used to working at night but without his cowl, his eyes were just as good as other humans. Speaking of his cowl, he might not have it but he was still wearing the rest of his outfit. He always kept a small torch in his belt.

Satisfied that he now had a small plan, he reached for the belt only to grunt in pain as another wave of agony shot through his shoulder and bile rose in the back of his throat. In his feverish haste he had forgotten about his shoulder. Biting the inside of his lip, something he seemed to do a lot lately, he reached up and began feeling along his shoulder, noting the distinct deformity to it. Bruce shuddered as he took in the swelling that had begun to form. Yep, that's a dislocation. Slowly he moved his arm into a more comfortable position and reached for the belt again sighing in relief when it seemed intact. Instinctually he reached into the right belt compartment and retrieved the torch.

He coughed, pain racking his lungs and chest as he turned the light on. He wiped his mouth on the back of his glove, but as his began pulling it away from him, his heart dropped as he saw blood smeared on the back of it. Well Shit! Can this get any worse? Setting the torch between his knees he attempted to catalogue his injuries. He was surprised at the extent of his injuries cause he was only able to feel his shoulder, however that soon changed as with each injury he felt as them spring on board of the pain wagon.

_Ok so_, he thought to himself, _as he was the only one down here, hmm maybe the fever was going to his head_. Shaking his head slightly to clear the rambling fever thoughts entering his mind he began the process again. _Fever, cough – some blood could be internally bleeding, unsure without proper equipment– dislocated shoulder, possible sprain in ankle, multiple rib fractures, cracks or bruising. Possible concussion,_ blood dripped into his eye, _make that probable concussion._

With a sigh, _gee was he sighing a lot today_, Bruce leaned back on the rock and looked aroundat the small area he was trapped in. He was lying in a tightly enclosed cavern, which resembled a coffin, but slightly bigger, surrounded by immovable rocks, unless of course you're Superman or Wonder Woman or any type of Meta-human. Of course being only human this would be an impossible task.

Unsure of how long he had been trapped, he calculated that he had at least two hours of air left. _Probability that I'm going to die down here is about 98%. That means I have a two percent chance that I will get out of this situation._ _I like those odds. God his mind was a strange place to be sometimes. _In fact it was one of the reasons he put up barricades sp that mind readers like fellow Leaguer J'onn wouldn't be able to read his mind, cause despite how structured his mind was it was sometimes a crazy place to be, especially when he was thinking on his feet. Maybe his arch nemesis the Joker was right and he was just as insane as those he hunted.

He reached up and scrubbed a hand over his brow as he slowly grew tired. His body, starting to feel overwhelmed by everything that had occurred was shutting down, something Bruce was not too happy about. Unfortunately he didn't have a say in this as the encroaching darkness seemed to attack him and his mind slipped into a dark void teeming with bats.

The next time Bruce awoke, it was in darkness once again. The torch must have broken and he was reminded of his fall into the well when he was younger, though this time there was no bats to frighten him, no father to comfort him nothing but a deafening silence. A silence filled only by the sound of his own beating heart. He wasn't sure how long he had passed out for, however judging by the shortness of breath, he knew his chances of getting out of his situation without dying was down to 0.01% of surviving.

It was then that something occurred that hadn't happened since he was at least 16 years old, he began to hyperventilate. With the already short air supply this was not the best idea his body had come up with and he was struggling to get his breath back under control. Eventually getting it under control he decided that to preserve air or at least give him peace in what he was beginning to suspect would be his last moments on earth, he began to meditate. A small part of him felt relief at the idea of finally being able to rest and join his parents in the afterlife. Another part of him felt guilty that Gotham would more than likely crumble and fall under disrepair from the entire rogue gallery of villain's even he sometimes had trouble containing. He was also a little sad that he would be leaving behind his long time guardian and father figure Alfred, and his two adopted children Dick – even if he wasn't talking to Bruce at the moment - and Tim, but he was certain Alfred would care for them the way he had for Bruce when he lost his parents.

He wished he had more time to tell Dick he was proud of him, and despite their difference that he was doing a great job keeping Bludhaven free of criminals – Bruce had always made sure he was doing ok without being seen by his son, which was a little difficult at times because Dick had been trained by him and knew when he was being followed. He didn't want to Tim, to lose another parent, even if he wasn't the greatest at what he did.

Sinking further into his meditation he felt his body relax, nausea giving way to the happy memories with those he tolerated – ok maybe he did think of them as friends especially Clark who had made an effort to come over at least once a week for Dinner even if he wasn't invited. Pain washed away as he found his happy place among his parents, friends and children slowly slipping into the inviting warmth of their love and affection. _No more pain._

He began following them into the darkness only to stop when he heard his name being called. He paused, a frown replacing the small smile on his face. _Nah that couldn't be right, he was buried beneath what was probably an immense amount of rock and debris. _He shook his head slightly and continued to walk towards the obscurity. Stopping and cocking his head as he heard his name again.

He felt himself being shaken, the jostling of which reawakened the pain he had tried so hard to mask. A small whimper escaped his lips as he felt someone gently touch his wounds, but each touch sent waves of agony through his tired and sore body.

He could hear someone murmuring above him and he was hard pressed to understand what they were saying. He felt someone shimmy their arms under him and gently picked him. Bruce attempted to open his eyes but found them to heavy to lift and soon fell unconscious again.

Bruce was ripped out the dark recesses of his dreams, letting out a cry of distress as his shoulder was popped into place. He choked on bile, unable to turn himself over. He heard someone murmuring soft words as they gently turned him over allowing the vomit to drain from his mouth. It took him a while but he managed to open his eyes slowly and as things the room stopped spinning he noticed he was in the medical bay of the Watchtower. Kneeling next to him was Superman and behind him stood J'onn. A frown peppered his face as confusion set in, unsure of how he had gotten to the watchtower.

'It's Okay Bruce, your gonna be fine.' Superman smiled soothingly.

Bruce narrowed his eyes at Superman knowing full well that probably meant he had been in serious trouble. God he was tired

'Sleep Bruce you're in good hands.' J'onn's eyes glowed.

Even as sleep came to him, Bruce made a small mental note to talk to J'onn about him mentally putting him to sleep, something that annoyed him. Before the darkness overtook him he managed to murmur 'Alfred…?'

'He's fine, a little sore and bruised, Dick and Tim are looking after him.' A slight nod of his head was all the acknowledgement Superman received as the Dark Knight fell asleep. J'onn and Superman smiled at each other watching their friend sleep peacefully, knowing how close they had been to losing him and it had definitely been a close call. With a small sigh Clark decided it was time to contact the frantic Batclan and let them know Batman was going to be fine. At least he was if they could manage to convince him to stay in the medical bay. A small chuckle broke through Clark's lips at the thought of a compliant Batman. _Right like that's gonna happen._

_-The End-_


End file.
